THe CURReNT CINeMA Celebrities on a Sidetrack I T is conceivable, I suppose, that, what with one thing and another, the movie people are getting a bit cracked in the head. That dear phrase, so commonly used in family groups, may well occur to one who makes a study of some of the recent disclosures. There is the sort of surprise in many of these films that suggests a lack of balance. Madame Bette Davis, the most promi- nent invalid of the screen, the lady who has been so often near death for us, or near ...........- .- madness, or anyhow on the brink of something terrible, suddenly is revealed in a farce and tossed regard- less, for the laughs that may be in the scene, on her rump in a cactus patch. \\1 alt Disney indicates a factual streak in his makeup and appears anxious to discuss trade secrets. Carol Reed, di- rector of "Night Train," expert in thrills and Hitchcockian S00ckS, wags a solemn noddle over the labor problems of English l11iners. Indeed, none of these renowned and talented people do what you have been trained to think they would, and there does not seem much reason for their various experimenta- tl 0 n s. \,Yhen Disney, for instance, dilly- dallies in "The Reluctant Dragon," with the kind of fantasy we love him for, he charms everybody. This is his newest feature-length production, and he has seen fit here to devise a story by which he may lead us, with guides and all, so to speak, on a tour of his studios and show us just how his sound ef- fects and his cartoons, his drawing and his coloring, are made. We are permit- ted a hint or two of the social life that goes on around the props and the easels and the water-coolers. It is all very gay and exuberant, especially as it is Robert Benchley who plays the rôle of the visitor, a visitor with an idea for 1VIr. Disney to eXploit. Real Disney comes to the surface now and then, in the Baby \Yeems sequence and again in the Dragon story itself. The film has thus its delightful moments, though, taken as a whole, it is probably the weakest of all Disney's long pictures. ing, doubtless, to Ethel Barrymore, there is a suspicion over here that every Eng- lish coal mine harbors a poet, but there are no poets in this far from lyrical por- trait. lVlargaret Lockwood, Michael Redgrave, and Emlyn \\1illiams are the players we know best, and the types shown in the village are excellent. The final climax, with miners en- tombed as a result of an un- scrupulous owner's greed, is detailed and gruelling and brutal. I suspect the plot thread has been cut too casually, but a big scene like this, of a half- dozen men and boys caught down there underground, buried alive, is handled with true Reed skill. <:> == , , I C AROL REED directed "The Stars Look Down" in England well over a year ago, and he apparently has aimed for the sombre quality of A. J. Cronin's dissertation on the labor diffi- culties facing British coal miners. Ow- M ADAME BETTE'S giddy little ef- fort, in which she impersonates one of those heiresses busy with elope- men ts and beloved of the gossip writers, takes us in a plane to a ghost town in Death Valley. In the cactus patches there she learns a lesson or two about life and its real meaning, being taught, fortunately, by no less a person than James Cagney. "The Bride Came C.O.D.," as the farce is archly labelled, may be rated possibly as a practice piece, since the tragediennes now feel, I be-. lieve, that it is their duty to the world to be gay, to make us laugh and forget. O NLY frantic mystery readers will go out of their way for "Poison Pen," a slight British item with Flora Robson, and they will find the solution too clear from the beginning of the second half, if not, indeed, from the very first shot of the whole thing. . . . No devotees of anything except com- plete apathy will have a kind word for "Dance Hall," an affair built up to display the worst tempers of Car- ole Landis and Cesar Romero. It is a stringy bit, really, involving jazz, crap games, cafeteria love, and even some- thing about a symphony written by a young piano player. -JOHN MOSHER . He ", as a podiatrist. One day while treating my feet he said, "I will ask you a question. If the answer is 'no,' \vriggle your left toes. If it is 'yes,' wriggle your right toes." Firmly grasping my left toes, he asked me to marry him. Rendered thus helpless, my wriggling right toes soon came to the rescue.-The News. Oh, moment indelible! Oh, precious ti ill e ! 51 CE WJ11[ ! ** l .*.; \ :':. * . ; ,,#;W?' 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